


heaven severed

by lilypadwriter



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypadwriter/pseuds/lilypadwriter
Summary: A collection of moments; or, a lifetime framed by love.





	heaven severed

**Author's Note:**

> okay so asdfasfda i love this pairing so much so i had to write something in the drastically under-populated ao3 tag.
> 
> the implied child abuse is very light and alcohol is only mentioned twice!! the story is mostly a very happy one.

Lucas snored in his sleep. 

It was a soft, purring noise - a questioning snort punctuating the calm stream every so often. When Will couldn’t sleep (which was most nights), he studied the patterns of Lucas’ breathing and how it correlated to his snores. Breathing in, the rumble of snoring. Breathing out, the threat of a snort. Sleepovers didn’t make it any easier to rest, but they at least provided some entertainment.

It was only amusing the first few times he’d heard Jonathan loudly stumble out of the house to go meet Nancy.

Head lifted from his pillow, Will admired Lucas’ features. Puberty had certainly done a number on all of them, but Lucas wore his age well. There wasn’t even any acne scars on his cheeks; Will and Dustin’s faces were both matching portraits of red irritation. In fact, the only imperfection he could note about Lucas was the snoring - the incredibly cute, adorably soothing snoring. 

With the darkness as his shield, Will reached out his hand and spread his fingers across Lucas’ chest. The _Star Wars_ logo on his shirt was fading, but the material had kept its softness. Will tried not to fixate too much on the fact that probably meant Lucas’ family used good detergent and had a good washing machine. He didn’t think at all on how all his shirts were itchy and hole-ridden after two washes. 

Fingers tangled in the fabric, his head moving until it rested against Lucas’ shoulder. Another snort, breathing paused, before evening out again. Eventually, Lucas’ hand found its way around Will’s waist. 

It was nothing more than a sleep-tinted gesture. Body seeking warmth as Will sought comfort. That didn’t stop him from melting into the other’s body. His heavy-lidded eyes closed, the huff of a gentle sigh warming Lucas’ neck. Another snort. 

For a boy who often spent nights laying awake, Will fell asleep embarrassingly fast.

* * *

Mike met Will and Mike met Lucas. They existed as separate entities (MikeandWill and MikeandLucas) for the longest time. Sure, sometimes they sat together in school, at lunch, hung out in Mike’s basement - but Lucas and Will wouldn’t call each other friends. Not at first. They were too young to put words to it, but they would have been acquaintances, friends of friends, filling time with absent conversation until Mike arrived. 

That changed on the day Mike threw up on Will’s shirt. 

The three of them sat knee to knee, a comic book spread out in front of them (well, in front of Mike - no one complained). Then, halfway through a sentence, Mike bent closer to Will and then -- 

Well, they were sent home. It was in such a rush, with Karen worrying over Mike as if he was close to death, and not just suffering with a case of the flu. Under her breath, she muttered _I knew I shouldn’t have let him go to school today,_ and the two strangers were thrown out into the street with a wave of her hand.

“That was so gross,” Lucas said - after too long spent without saying a word. Will woke from his daydreams, blinking over at the other boy. Side by side, they were pushing their bikes home. Heat had infected Hawkins and it had become too hot to even think about the sort of exercise bike riding required. 

Will hadn’t noticed how long the distance was until they were walking in silence.

“Yeah,” Will agreed. He hadn’t managed to take one of Mike’s shirt in their rush, so he was left with a half-cleaned stain on his stomach. 

“He was all like - bleurgh. It was disgusting!” Lucas was smiling. He leaned closer, across the metal of his bike’s body, to mimic the action. Will offered a half-hearted laugh that blossomed into something more real when Lucas joined in. The handlebars of their bikes knocked together. “Oh, shit.” Will, never having heard a cuss from a kid’s mouth (his dad - Lonnie - said them all the time, but his mom told him to never be like that), turned to him with wide eyes. “You’re covered in his vomit!”

Lucas recoiled from his, bike handles untangling, nose wrinkled. Will felt a flush burn up the entirety of his face. He was used to being insulted for his clothes - Jonathan’s hand-me-downs, which had been Lonnie’s hand-me-downs. That didn’t make it any easier to swallow down Lucas’ look of disgust. 

“My house is a block away.” Head twitched to the side, Will eyed him. “You can come borrow one of my shirts.” 

Will smiled so brightly at him that Lucas forgot about the sun entirely. 

* * *

Lucas knew that people grew apart in high school, but - 

_“Not us,” Mike had promised, the last time they had ever played Dungeons and Dragons. What was once a weekly event bled into months and then, slowly, even less than that. At least five months had passed since their last game, but none of them were talking about that. They tried to enjoy the night, but they were all rusty - Lucas kept mispronouncing Dustin’s character name._

_“Not us,” Dustin had agreed, later that same night, as the three boys rode back home. Starlight had studded his hair as he sped ahead of them. Will joined in the race, laughter spilling into the night, and soon Lucas was left alone as they bled into shadows._

“Not us,” Will said. They sat under the bleachers together, a last ditch attempt to avoid Troy. Dustin had tried out for football that year and made the team. He swore it wouldn’t change anything, but he sat with them at lunch -- once, twice, forever.

Mike and Jane spent more and more time together until the gap between them and everyone else grew. They were lucky to see him once a week.

“We’re totally not gonna fail. I mean, we studied all week.” Will’s head was resting against Lucas' shoulder, lighter than a feather. His eyes were closed, a facade of peace, made all the more noticeable by his fingers fiddling with his shirt sleeve.

“Totally not,” Lucas said, without mentioning that their study sessions had lasted about twenty minutes. They’d very quickly escaped to the arcade when they grew too bored.

* * *

High school had pitted Will and Lucas against the world, but their younger selves hadn’t been so fondly united - the borrowing of the t-shirt was a long forgotten event when Dustin joined their class. In the middle of the classroom, the safest place to be, Mike and Lucas caught eyes; _he’s one of us._ Will tried to catch their gaze, to be a part of the stares, but the look was over. The decision was already made. 

Still, it was Will that talked to him before anyone else. Curly hair blocked his view of the teacher, a little too small in his seat to see over the newly implanted head of Dustin. Every so often, Lucas and Mike would give a small glance in their direction and Will couldn’t stop the spiteful surge of victory that ran through him. 

Such a feeling increased when Dustin half-turned his body. “Do you have a pen?” 

“You didn’t bring a pen to the first day of class?” 

“Oh, I did. Duh.” His shoulders scrunched up until they almost reached his ears, a low blush dotted across his cheeks. He tipped his notebook towards Will, showcasing full pages of writing - far more than anything that had been spoken in class. A light sprinkling of laughter fell from his lips, tinged with shy intent, and Will joined in just so he wasn’t alone.

He hoped that Mike and Lucas were watching them. 

Pencil case was unzipped and opened, one spare pen handed over. Dustin beamed so brightly that Will thought that light spots hindered his gaze for seconds after. 

He never got the pen back, but he didn’t mind so much.

* * *

Alone together in Lucas’ room, Will shimmied out of his shirt. He held it awkwardly, not wanting to tarnish anything with Mike’s vomit. His own room was a bleak affair, everything a hand-me-down, everything worn or torn or fallen into absolute disrepair. It was a stark contrast to Lucas’. Though it was messy, it gave the impression of being bustling with life and expression, rather than being uncared for. 

Action figures lined the shelves, some of them untouched in their boxes, the others strewn about haphazardly. Comic books were spread from one corner of the room to another, the brightly coloured fonts and pictures painting his room in loud tones. Walkie talkie laid on his bed, like it was a constant fixture there, waiting for someone to phone over.

All Will could think was - _how could he ever let Lucas see his room?_

Hand took the shirt from him and threw it in the washing basket, so full to the brim that most of the clothes were piled high on the floor. “Mom’ll clean it,” he promised with a half-shrug, before opening up his closet. A few things tumbled out and rolled onto the floor, but Lucas just nudged them with his foot before reaching inside. Two shirts were pulled out.

“Star Wars or Star Trek?” 

It felt like a monumental question. Will’s eyes flittered between the blue and the black, before pointing at the Star Wars one. 

“Good choice,” Lucas said and it really felt as if it was, with his smile all bright and his eyes all twinkly. 

Will was never asked to give the shirt back, so he didn’t. He used it as a night shirt right up until it was too stiff to move his body in anymore. Even then, he kept it tucked away under his pillow, instead of throwing it away.

* * *

There had been no strict discussion on the guidelines regarding their competition for Dustin’s friendship. All Will knew was that it had started and, by some stroke of luck, he was winning - not that Will had pursued a friendship purely to have some upper hand over Lucas and Mike.

That was just an added bonus. 

While Lucas turned left to go home, Dustin and Will turned right. It was only three extra minutes of bonding time, but it made all the difference. Inside jokes were shared between them with ease (much to the confusion of Lucas and Mike), a slight favouring was handed over to Dustin whenever Will was the DM, and they gradually began to spend more time together.

While he had been worried it would become LucasandDustinandMike, it became LucasandMike and DustinandWill. 

“Wait, wait,” Will whined, knocking his shoulder gently against Dustin’s. They sat in Will’s bedroom, spread out across the floor - no one else had been invited over before. Nerves had wracked him the whole day, but Dustin had surpassed expectations (a phrase that Mr. Clarke used regularly to define Dustin’s test scores). He had barely glanced at the dismal surroundings, merely introducing himself to Joyce with a bright smile, before trailing after Will into his room. “I can’t read that fast.” 

“We’ve read this one before.” Despite his protest, Dustin flickered the page back, letting Will read over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but. What if I missed something before?” 

“At your snail pace? You’ve probably taken in more than, like, anyone.” 

“Hey,” Will pouted, knocking his elbow into Dustin’s ribs. Keeling over, Dustin held his side and howled. 

“You monster! Look what you’ve done to me.”

Will dissolved into giggles and descended on his friend. 

* * *

Will Byers was good at hiding. 

His free time was devoted to acts of daring escapism. He lost his mind in fantasy books, in comics where good always prevailed and the evil was defeated in a neat stack of fifty pages, in games of Dungeons and Dragons where death was only a temporary issue. In his later years, he’d realise that it was a Byers trait, as common in their DNA as brown hair and attraction to danger. 

Jonathan dulled himself with music and photography; anything where he wasn’t the subject. He was a passive vehicle in both, an admirer of sorts. His mother - she lost herself in her children and they all pretended they were okay with it. 

His hiding didn’t stop itself at the metaphorical, though. He had always leaned to being on the smaller side, so he could slide under his bed, into his mother’s closet, tuck himself away for the night in Castle Byers. When night hit, and Lonnie stumbled home drunk, Will learned that the only escape was to hide. 

It wasn’t long until Lonnie learned all of his hiding places (his last ditch-effort was huddled behind the couch, but even that was soon discovered).

When his father’s anger grew too big for the house, there was nowhere else for him to go. He ran past Castle Byers, deeper into the woods, finding the path of Mirkwood like it was second nature. His father’s voice had faded, but he could still hear it rattling inside the back of his head. It was his night time lull, a song that shaded his dreams. 

He ended up outside of Lucas’ house without really meaning to show up there. It would have been easier to get to Dustin’s - not only was it closer, but the two of them understood each other. Instead, he stood looking at Lucas’ window, chest heaving as he caught his breath. He was here now. 

Turning back felt like some show of weakness, as if he was lying on his back and showing his belly. 

Eyes scoured the floor for rocks, carrying four of them in a pocket fashioned from his shirt. Two were thrown at the window until it opened. Another was held in his hand, poised and raised, but he managed to stop himself - Lucas probably wouldn’t let him in if he had hit him on the head with a rock. 

Face scrunched up, Lucas yawned into the night air. His mind reeled and halted, before catching up with the sight of Will Byers on the lawn, rocks in his hand. There was a chip in his window that wouldn’t be fixed for ten years, when Erica inherited his room. Lucas never mentioned it to Will.

Instead, he quietly let Will into the house and the two slept side by side, shoulder to shoulder. No one said anything when Will slipped his hand into Lucas’, when Will started sobbing lightly against his shoulder. 

“What happened last night?” Lucas would ask in the morning. He wore a sleep shirt with a dragon on it, curled up with cartoon ‘z’s winding upwards. His eyes were droopy, his hair a little messed up, and Will saved that image of him - took a mental snapshot. Not quite as long lasting as Jonathan’s photos, but still as cherished. 

“I can’t remember,” Will lied, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

* * *

In college, Will went into nursing (fear of hospitals be damned) and Lucas went into some form of engineering with a name so long that Will blacked out halfway through it. He had bumped into Dustin a week before graduation, the two of them rushing in the hall to some club. Barely recognising him at first, Will blinked a handful of times before the curly hair and dimpled cheeks registered.

“Hey,” Will said. The two of them danced through a conversation, trying to act like a world wasn’t standing between them. Dustin said something, named his college, his degree. Will forgot about them as soon as he turned on his heel.

He didn’t see Mike until the other was on stage, accepting his diploma. They didn’t talk after.

Graduation pictures were of him and Lucas, arms around each other, grinning at Jonathan’s camera with relieved happiness. They never really talked about it, but they applyed to all the same schools. 

“There’s a really cool art programme near this one,” Lucas said, voice soft, pushing a brochure to Will. Their own secret language developed, the quick suggestion of schools slipping from each other’s tongues. They were both accepted into the same school and, without another word, they were planning housing arrangements. 

“Breakfast, before you leave,” Lucas would demand. Will would fuss, but he’d still sit at the table and eat whatever Lucas had cooked that morning - bacon and eggs, pancakes with whipped cream, leftover pizza when Lucas had a hangover. The apartment was so small that they had to sit with their elbows pressed together, but neither of them minded.

Lucas stayed awake into the early hours, typing away at his laptop until his body physically couldn’t take it anymore. A blanket was always found wrapped around him in the morning, a pillow shoved under his head. 

“What kind of college students still drink at home? Shouldn’t we be at parties?” Will asked, but the idea of parties still terrified him. Lucas could find himself in a different house every night, but Will was more than content in their own home. They passed around a bottle of wine until they were bubbly and soft inside, leaning against each other with soft smiles.

Will was only updated on Dustin and Mike through his mom. Eventually, he stopped asking.

* * *

The pre-teen years were the hardest. 

As if overnight, his friends turned from familiar faces to boys hidden by peach fuzz. They became gangly and odd, shooting up until their bodies looked unbalanced - elbows and knees had never been so bruised. Acne grew across their cheeks, voices deepened, eyes sharpened. And worst of all - what had been a passing interest in girls, even sometimes tinged with the vague disgust that came with the unknown and untouchable, became a full-blown obsession. 

Will hadn’t been infected by _puberty._

He didn't really mind it, at first. He was used to people being taller than him. 

It suck when Mike became more into kissing Eleven than hanging out with them, but Will could deal with that. He blipped in and out of their lives, but at least Will had the safety of his two other friends.

And then - Lucas and Max. Will didn't even really notice they’re together until she starts showing up during Dungeons and Dragons. It didn't bother him, because he liked having new faces around. She was fun and laughed at all his jokes and then Lucas leaned over and pressed a kiss against her cheek. 

Will’s heart skipped a beat and then sunk to his feet as if all the air had been let out of it.

Of course, it didn’t stop there. Once more, there was a division, new unions made out of the clan; WillandDustin (becoming less and less every day, but they didn’t talk about it), ElevenandMike, and MaxandLucas. 

“She broke up with me. _Again._ ” Complaint rife on his lips - how many times have they heard the same soft lament? In the basement, Will sat on the floor, a cold Coke between his fingers. Dustin was beside him, half paging through a comic. And there was Mike and Lucas, a choir of self-pity, spread across the couch together. “She said she hates me.”

“Sounds serious,” Will hummed. He was looking over Dustin’s shoulder, trying to figure out what was happening in the flash of pages. He’d long since given up hope. His heart didn’t flip and twist anymore when Lucas complained about breaking up with Max.

“I give it a week,” Mike said, patting a mourning Lucas on the back.

* * *

It was their first week at college and they were already at a party. 

Will had always thought he’d grow lost in the beat of music, he would find himself alive in the mix of bodies, there would be something hazy and secretive that he’d find intoxicating. He was wrong. No one was really dancing - everyone had broken off into circles, all sweaty and covered by smoke. Will, a little stung by alcohol and pushed into gentle silence, searched the bodies until a familiar face popped out.

Out on the fire escape, Lucas stood. He looked disgustingly fashionable in a ratty old shirt, bathed in moonlight. Will stumbled all the way over to him, squeezing himself out of the window and tripping over his feet until he caught his hand on the rail. “Hey,” Will greeted, eyes skirting between Lucas and a strange girl. Tug of jealousy in his drunk heart was soon dissipated when Lucas said his goodbyes to her, turning his full attention on Will.

“Hey,” Lucas laughed, holding out his hands to steady Will.

“You look good.”

“Yeah? You look drunk.” 

Will’s eyes fell shut, leaning forward until his head found Lucas’ chest. The other ran his hands through Will’s hair, longer than a bowl cut now. “Will?”

“Yeah?” Pulling back, blinking up at Lucas until his vision cleared. He barely registered Lucas was leaning closer until hot breath was against his cheek, lips finding his. 

Will melted right into him and Lucas melted right back. 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment, kudos, and bookmark!!


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